Forever Alice
by TheWonka
Summary: After escaping the Red Queen, Alice gains some unwanted attention by the Knave. Can Hatter piece her shattered world back together? Dark secrets are revealed and we are left to question: Is Wonderland really all that wonderful? AU
1. Broken

A/N I have noticed a lack of love for the slender man we actually don't run in terror from. This story (well the beginning, at least) contains rape and some morbid imagery. This chapter will not have that loveable madman, but intend to include Hatter in the following chapter. I own NOSHING!

This story takes place in the Tim Burton Universe after Alice takes the Vaporal Sword to the White Queen.

Chapter 1.

Alice walked along the upturned roots of the magnificent trees in pure awe. It was as if she were a blind hag who, miraculously, regained her sight and repainted her memory of a mighty maple with its' true face. Her hand brushed the cracked bark, surprised to find that it felt quite soft. Behind the tree stood the dwelling of the White Queen, its' beauty magnified by the rays of the afternoon sun which kissed it's many peeks. It was a good mile away, but she was safe here, this was only a dream after all.

The girl quickly descended her perch on the hill so a mossy spot under the arbor. There was a slight breeze, warmed by the afternoon sun. It swept by from time to time to kiss her pale cheeks. With a contented sigh she fell back onto the moss and peered up into the sky. For a moment she worried that when she awoke she would never come back, and secretly she hoped she would never waken. This thought was quickly pushed to the back of her mind as a drowsy spell came over her. Alice curled her hands under her chin, closed her eyes and dozed.

Ilosovic Stayne. The Knave of Hearts raced to enemy territory, his horses' hooves thudding like thunder beneath him.

_The Red Queen, furious with his ignorance, and her own, screaming and barking orders. There would be quite the beheadings tonight. _

"You follow her and you catch her." Her voice was even hostile towards him, "And you break her little neck!"

The memory fresh in his mind, thus making his chase ever more urgent. He knew she had brought it to her. This crusade was in vain. However, he had been given strict orders, and dire consequences would follow anyone who disobeyed them.

The least he could do was scout for a swift and successful takeover of the White Palace, that would please Irecabeth more than returning empty handed. This fueled his anger as well as his drive. Stayne bows to no one unless it's for his own personal gain. This was the case with his "beloved" Red Queen. He despised her almost as much as she loved him. Ilosovic felt a pit in his stomach, queasy for a moment as a flash of what might be played in his mind like a drive in movie.

One quick movement and his horse came to a halt. The lengthy man dismounted and walked into a clearing. That god-awful ball in the sky struck his skin and a curse slipped past his rough lips. He must not have muffled it as much as he had hoped because the groaning of a girl caused him to twirl on his heels dramatically. Stayne crept back onto the road like a leopard, his one good eye never straying from the direction of the strangers sound. He unsheathed his hunter's dagger and held it close, elbow bent and ready to strike. The images of a sleeping Alice greeted his searing blue eye.

"Alice.."

Little time was spared in closing the distance between them. The poor girl had even less time to react to the weight being push upon her. Alice let out a startled yell but quickly silenced by a firm hand.

"Now, isn't this just lucky?" His words slipped out like venom, there was evident joy in his voice. One free, slender hand went to her neck hard against the moss, her muffled protests emitting from beneath the leather glove. Stayne weighed his options: He could snuff her out, right here and now. He could ensure their victory, and forever be in service to that dreaded red witch. Or.. he could have a little fun here, leave her scared and him satisfied. Of course Irecabeth would be furious, but he could not overlook the bragging privileges he would receive by having his way with Underlands' savior.

Alice scratched at his hands, her nails futile scraping pathetically against his armor. Pale blue eyes welled up as she prepared for the snap of her neck, but it never came. Instead, she was rising. Ilosovic picked up the small woman, for a moment she hoped he would let her go. She would not be so lucky. Blood dripped from her lip and her teeth bit down hard, her body was slammed into the tree she had only moments before envied for it's natural beauty. His lips were on hers, sucking at the blood as if it were fine wine. Tears streamed down her cheek, cleaning a smudge of mud left from lying on the earth. Stayne left her lips to venture to her collar, his hand keeping its firm grasp on her neck.

"Stop! Please, sto-AH!" Alice pleas were cut by the sound of flesh ripping. Pearly teeth had pierced her soft skin, blood smeared on his chin. Stayne curved back to lick it all off his lips. Alice watched in horror, the numbness in her shoulder giving way to pain. The monster of a man came nearer to her face, nuzzling her unmarked shoulder.

"Oh come now, Alice.." he elongated the 's' at the end of her name in a hiss, which tickled her inner ear. "Begging only makes it harder." He gave a chuckle to his double meaning, finding humor where she only found horror. With one slash of her arm, her hand came in contact with his head. Nails aimed to slash, they ripped the heart shaped leather patch from its place on Ilosovics' face. Hands covered her mouth as the gaping wound stared down at her.

"You little slut!" He shrieked. Strong arm pulled her body away from the tree and then slammed her back into it roughly. Alice let out another screech. Stayne cringed, if she was going to scream, then this would have to take place somewhere further from the road.

Blonde curls laced in a strong grasp, she was dragged from the clearing to a rivers bank. Alice's tiny body hit the ground hard, she was sobbing now and this couldn't have pleased him more. That dress. That troublesome dress. It was discarded quickly, leaving Alice to cover her bare chest with her arms. She wore a modest pair of panties, this made him chuckle a little. Alice was in shambles. She shook in fear and confusion, her hair a tangled mess, dirty and sand clung to her skin like ugly leeches. She never looked more beautiful to him.

Her undies were the next to go, which was not as easy as he would have hoped. Thrashing legs must have knocked him in the head more than once. It became a game to him, her cries and pleas were matched by his chuckles until at last the silk garment was discarded for good. Stayne flung it over his shoulder, into the river, and let the current take it far away. She was nude before him, a sobbing, dirty mess. Stayne roughly pushed her legs apart, his tongue on his lips like a young boy who tried so very hard to hook a worm onto his fishing line. Little hands went to her most private region, trying to keep what little dignity she possessed. This too, became a game. One, which was over quicker than he would have liked. With her arms held firm above her head, her knees clamped together.

"You're just oodles of fun, aren't you?" One was traded for two as his newly free hand slipped between her legs. Alice let out a whimper between sobs. After a few jabs to the side, Alice complied and laid with her legs spread apart. Her eyes closed tight in shame as she choked on a sob.

Stayne rolled his head back to appraise his catch, his breath quickened and the discomfort in his pants was beginning to become a real bother. Alice laid in her misery until she heard the folding of fabric and the tossing aside of a chest piece.

"NO! Don't, don't touch me, please! What ever you want, money? My families wealthy.." She made up every excuse she could to make this stop, but they fell on def ears. Stayne was already upon her with his hard lips over a perk nipple. Alice let out a startled moan, which surprised her, and then began to thrash wildly as his hard member pressed against her inner thigh. Like the rest of his body, his prick was elongated to inhuman proportions. A most monstrous grin painted on Ilosovics face as he lined himself up. This reassured Alice that this was, indeed, going to hurt. A lot.

He entered her unceremoniously, Alice letting out a scream, which caused a nearby pair of birds to fly off scared and confused. Stayne closed his eyes for a moment as his head felt the entrance to her womb. Alice, whose fingers were grasping hard on the dirt whipped her hateful gaze up at the Knave, he was not all the way in. With a rough shove he entered her further, which caused Alice to wither below him in pain she had not know existed. Stayne let out a satisfied groan at the sight of his enemy in pain. Her lower abdomen was extended slightly from him, he grinned in triumph. Alice would never forget this, would never forget him. Blood seeped onto the riverbank from her torn hymen. Tears streamed down her face, which jerked with sobs of self-loathing and anger.

Stayne stayed like he was for a long moment, just to drink in the beauty of the disgraced angel below him. He did not start slowly or gently, it began fast and rough. Alice was far beyond screaming now. With each pump into her, the river washes she felt a little more and more of herself away. Stayne was in euphoria, she was so small and untouched. Unlike the usual dish he dined on from time to time. Alice began to wish he had snapped her neck and left her under that tree. Death seemed so sweet, anything to free her from this torment.

A hoarse moan passes her gaping mouth, her eyes widened in sheer surprise. Inwardly she prayed that this went over his head, it didn't. It encouraged him, excited him, Stayne spread he legs further, the joints popping, and he penetrated her deeper. Alice let out a mixture of moans and screams until her legs began to shake uncontrollably. Ilosovic, too, was reaching his end. His breathing was savage as he plowed into, he came at once, filling her with his seed, and he pumped until he was sure if was all in there. Alice released and felt her body go limp as her vision darkened and her mind went blank as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Stayne took a moment to collect himself, wiping off his dick on her stomach. He erected himself and adjusted his pants and returned his breastplate. The discarded eye patch was collected and put back in place. Ilosovic looked at his reflection in the river and smoothed his sweaty hair back with his hand. Before he left for the river, he took one parting glance at the unconscious body of Alice.

"Farewell, Alice. It's been fun, but I'm sure we'll see each other real soon."

End Chapter 1


	2. Trouble on the Horizon

A/N Thanks for the great feedback! Well.. most in the forms of alerts and author favourites. Also my bad, did not know Alice had brown eyes. Some detail Nazi -coughSARAHcough- brought this to my attention. So, thanks for reading this far, enjoy your gift certificate.. TO THE CRACKER BARRELLL!

Chapter 2

Droplets of rain fell on her dirty cheek. The sensation roused Alice from her coma and she quickly brought her legs into her chest and hugged them tight. The sky was dark now, covered in a blanket of soft clouds that seemed to weep with her in her misery. They stayed like this, Alice and the rain, until the last rays of light fell below the mountains. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly, she was far beyond crying. Her eyes were red, puffy, and raw. Even blinking brought her pain, though it was dulled by the roaring ache she felt between her legs.

"Alice?" her name, called some distance away. Tarrant, the mad hatter, who had grown concerned by the absence of his Alice, had wandered far into the forest in search of her. Torn silk and cotton was caught on a fallen tree limb whose branches dipped into the river like a corpses fingers. Tarrant lifted the garment with his bandaged fingers. His very frame began to wilt as it registered in his brain as Alice's' dress. "Alice!"

She heard him, and then didn't. Broken from the inside out. A ball of dirt and hair; blood and cum; sadness and anger. This is how he found her. He was at her side in mere moments, curling his arms around her withered form as he cooed comforting nonsense. As if in complete ignorance of her nakedness, she threw her slender arms around his neck tightly. Tarrant let out a short breath before returning the ravenous embrace.

"Alice.." she began to cry again. Her tears soaking his jacket to his pale skin, "Who did this?" He didn't really need to ask, he new, of course. Tarrant saw the way the Knave looked at her when she sat beside Irecabeth. Though, he thought little of it then. It filled him with such rage that his grip on the tiny Alice made her choke a little. He recoiled back into his nurturing state, just now noticing her nakedness. The man blushed something awful, looking away in every which way.

Alice noticed his discomfort, and her dignity caught up with her. "Umhm.." she sputtered nervously, bringing her arms around her chest protectively as the Hatter stripped himself of his overcoat, draping it over her pale shoulders.

"Can you stand?" a small nod was her only reply. He held her firmly by the shoulders, making sure she didn't topple over. Her legs shook beneath her, and as he predicted, she did lost her balance not once, but twice. When they both agreed that she was in no condition to walk on her own, Tarrant picked her up in his arms and carried her carefully back to the White Palace.

He stopped a good few yards away, wishing to spare her the humility of being carried, broken and battered. Everyone saw her as Underlands Champion, and this would surely hamper his or her hope in her. Tarrant propped the blonde up against a great tree trunk while she composed herself a bit more. He stepped away from her and took a sharp intake of breath. Her legs were bruised along her thighs, her stomach was as black as a blueberry. That rage was back, his welcoming green eyes now that sickly burning amber. Alice became frightened, and it showed on her face. Suddenly ashamed, Tarrant looked toward the castle walls.

"Will not be too much further." It was the most she had spoken in hours, though her voice was cracked with the threat of tears. The Hatter contemplated going in and bringing out an outfit, but he regarded her fragile state and thought against it. The tattered remains of her dress laid damp in his arms and it gave him an idea. Alice watched him work inquisitively, his fingers working with the skill only a madman could have.

Tarrant held up a very mature looking dress, only so because there was very little to work with. It slung over one shoulder and dipped far low in the back. The ends were frayed and ended just a little below mid thigh. Alice nodded at it in silence and slipped it on, clearly displeased at the feeling of damp cotton on her dirty skin.

The girl let out a startled whimper as the madman began to pat at her dirty hair in attempts to take out all the twigs and clumps of dirt. Then using his sleeve to smear off the remaining mud off her cheeks, she let out a giggle.

"Now that's the spirit!" he chimed in. His hand held hers, heart sinking when noting one of her fingernails had been torn off. Tarrant gave her palm a little squeeze and lead her back to the safe confines of the Mirana.

Little of the events in the forest were spoken by anyone. Alice explained that she had tripped into the river and had taken a nasty hit against some tocks. However unlikely this sounded, everyone she told the story to seemed uninterested in what really happened. All except Mirana, who kept her watchful eye on the little Alice as she ghosted her way through the halls.

The White Queen caught up with her on the terrace. Big brown eyes seemed to not only peer at the vast lands of Underland, they were searching. A pale, gentle hand clasped down onto Alice's frail shoulder. Alice jumped a little but relaxed at the familiar face.

"Sorry, I've been a bit jumpy lately."

"So I've noticed." A long silence passed between the two women. Mirana had prepared herself to confront the child, but found herself at a loss for words. "You saw Ilosovic in the forest, didn't you?" Her slight flinch affirmed her suspicions. "He's the only man who leaves women with bruises like that." Alice was confused, for the queen spoke of her attacker not out of hatred, but out of longing. Mirana beamed a most motherly expression as her regal hand looked at the poor girls arm. Alice let out a hiss of air, giving a slight tug to try and free her limb, but Mirana held tight. "Now, why didn't you let us take a look at you? Your arm must be fractured."

"It's fine! Really!" Alice assured her, trying once more in vain to break free from this iron grip. Defeated, the queen released. Alice rubbed her upper arm gently; the bruise there wouldn't go away for quite some time. Mirana stared at the mark a little too intensely for Alice's tastes. "Is.. is something wrong?"

Snapped out of her trace, Mirana shook her head lightly and moved, no, fluttered over to a marble white bench. "I'm sorry, I was just in thought." Her hand patted the empty space beside her, coaxing the little broken bird to sit beside her. This little bird complied. The beautiful woman looked at Alice with a forlorn expression, the smaller girl, who felt quite plain in comparison, squirmed a little. "It must have been agonizing, you are so small my dear."

Caught off guard by her forwardness, Alice furrowed her brow with a heavy nod. Followed by a gasp as those delicate fingers slid her dress up as dark eyes examined the bruises on her thighs.

"I think you should leave." Mirana's voice was very stern, and she did not look at Alice. Left in utter confusion, Alice collected herself and almost sprinted off of the terrace.

Mirana was left to herself and she let out a most heavy sigh. Rising from her throne of the moment, she went to rest on the railing. "Oh my Knave. What have you done?"


	3. Used but still good

A/N Ugh I've been really out of it. Might not be as good as previous chapters due to me finding Tarrant revolting and just wanting to get this out of the way. anywho.. MENSTRUAL PAIN! LOL!

Shaken up and confused, Alice tossed and turned in her sleep.

He's holding her down, kissing her roughly. She tries to struggle but can't seem to move. His hands. His hands are all over her body, she can't even scream. "You little Slut!"

She jolts upright, body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. As she lays her head back down, she groans. It's soaked with tears, and she is plagued with the uncomfortable feeling of hair sticking to her skin. Slipping out of bed she groggily wanders over to the window, parting its crisp white linen curtains. The cool air once more kisses her skin and she feels that calm she knew only in that meadow. That meadow. Ruined forever, she could never return. Even if her life depended on it.

Alice fought back a gag, the thought was making her sick. With a sigh, she sank to the marble flooring, her back against the wall. Her neck contorted so that her hot cheek could cool on the window pane. She was working herself up. So much so that she found it pointless to try and sleep.

As she sat there in the dark, she mused over all the events –all but one- that lead to this moment. She thought of the twins, that primed and proper white rabbit. But mostly, she thought of that very mad Hatter.

Tarrant laid on his cot so that his face lay buried in the down of his pillow. Grunts and swears muffled by the plush. His fists clenched so tight that his knuckles looked whiter than usual. The different scenarios in which would be the enjoyable way to kill Stayne rolled around in his head like loose marbles. "Ye will pay for hurtin' te' lass.."

"Oh, you're awake.." That small voice pulled him from his rage induced trance. In one swift movement he was sitting upright, propped against the headboard. His sleeping pajamas were simple, reverberating the trend of crisp whiteness of Mamoreal.

"What are you doing awake, Alice?" He blinked a couple of times at her, not quite sure if he was awake or not. She too wore the palace garb, a long gown which fluttered just above the ground. She shrugged and asked quietly if she could sit next to him. Without hesitation he gave her the green light. Tarrant slung his legs over the side of the bed so that his feet planted themselves on the cold ground. His nose wrinkled as the collected warmth left him.

"I couldn't sleep." She confessed. Giving him an awkward glance, "I was having nightmares." She suddenly felt foolish and began to justify it by expressing her concern about what was happening in her absence in her own world. Her doubts about her ability to defeat the Jabberwocky and the like. Hatter wasn't buying it, and she knew it. There was a heavy silence between them, broken only by the rustling of blankets as Alice turned to face Tarrant.

"Alice, I am so-" his apology would go unfinished. Those tiny arms were once more around his neck, and those little lips were on his. The kiss lasted only a moment before she leaned away, hoping that she had not made a terrible mistake. Tarrant's face went blank with surprise, looking passed the defeated and embarrassed girl before him.

"No, I'm sorry." She quickly gathered herself and began to start towards the door. Just as her toes made contact with the floor, a very firm, yet gentle hand pulled her back to the bed. With one cautious movement he held her face still. He placed his lips on Alice's, to which she presented the same but with more awkwardness. It was so much more intimate than any kiss she had ever received, although she had very little to compare it to.

The two broke the kiss in need of air, but they kept so close they were practically breathing each others air. The affections did not end here. A careful hand placed itself on the small of the girls back, shying from groping her rear. Alice let out a sigh, the Hatter kissing her face like a woodpecker. Slender fingers played with the wild curls of his hair.

"Hatter.." she began slowly, he was too busy looking at her lips and responded with a mumbled 'hmm?'. "I.. I want you to love me." He definitely heard this. His questioning look forced her to elaborate. "I want you to show me love. To.. make love." Tarrant's cheeks turned a very dark pink to which Alice kissed them tenderly. She blushed herself, surprised at her own bluntness.

"Alice, I really don't think that's quite appropriate, given recent events." He furrowed his brow in frustration with himself. His body was craving more of her touch, to feel what he had not even considered before now. Yet his mind chastised him. His Alice was fragile, and he wished to not take advantage of her. However, her hands elicited an arousal in him he could not quell. His own hands held her head against him as he kissed her again and again. Inexperienced as he was, it was quite passionate. His tongue lapped at her lips, begging for entrance, which she granted. Playfully, she bit his lower lip, causing the poor man to groan out. Alice sat above her knees on the mattress. Lifting herself up so she could deepen their kiss.

Tarrant, now growing bold laid down onto the bed, and in the process, pulled Alice on top of him. Laying her head on his chest, she head the furious beating of his heart and smiled to herself. The hatter lifted her chin with his bandaged fingers and kissed her once more, this amount of contact was far too little for the raising need in Alice. She let out a moan, sending goose bumps along his spine. With one quick movement she was below him, and he trailed kisses over every inch of exposed skin. A little more confident now, Alice began to unbotton her loose fitting blouse. Each new area of uncovered flesh called to him and were quickly covered in hot, wet kisses.

Before he knew it, her chest was exposed below him, and it took all he had to look away in embarrassment. Alice cradled his face in her hands, pulling his attention to her. She was radiant, bruises and cuts aside. Even her splinted finger felt so warm against his cheek. He kissed the palm of her hand.

"You look beautiful, Alice." She let out a little gasp at the brilliance of his eyes. Instead of their usual vibrant green, or his terrible burning amber, they were a warm pink. Flecks of purple lingered on the outer part of the iris, and a perfect reflection of herself could be seen in his brilliant pupil.

The growing tightness in his pants was most bothersome, and he was quick to alleviate himself of the binds. Alice squirmed a little but relaxed finally, finding his member less frightening than expected, and instead found it interesting. Her head cocked to the side and Tarrant found himself feeling quite exposed and embarrassed. Alice laughed, the mood lightening again as the Hatter slipped off the remaining clothing she wore.

Tarrant wasn't quite prepared for what he saw. He had imagined her nude at least once in his mind. But in his fantasies she was not the bruised and battered child underneath him. He gave her an apologetic look, and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. Her lower abdomen was bruised from stretching, and it made him feel sick knowing how it came to be. Alice circled her arms around his neck and held his gaze with her dark, brown eyes. She felt the hard flesh on the inside of her thigh. Tarrent pushed but hit solid, bruised flesh. Alice hissed and he took more time lining himself up. With one thrust he entered her. Alice held on tight, expecting the pain, but felt only a warm and filling sensation. Tarrant Groaned, burying his head in her shoulder and the hair that clumped there. The two stayed in this state for a long moment, as Tarrant apparently didn't know what to do past this point. Taking the initiative, Alice rocked her hips into his, and he let out a startled grunt and pushed back.

It wasn't long before the two were lost in their passion. Their clumsy lovemaking aroused the attentions of those wandering by. A quick ear to the door, a silent giggle, and they were on their way.

Absolum perched himself on his tiny chair, having a small toke as he consulted the Oraculum. With Frapjous day undeniably close, no amount of ignorance could be tolerated. The scroll unraveled in front of him, and he searched it's illustrations for any change. There was one. A girl with unruly hair, in her arms a bundle with a tiny face.


	4. Expecting

A/N: so here we are.. For the few of you who are actually reading this I'd like to get some feedback. Such as: How would you like to see this story end? Which direction would you like it to go form here?

I have a lot of ideas bubbling and a lot of different endings/events. Though I'd like to see what you'd like to see.

The last bit of starlight was just dieing off when horse hooves stormed the gate. Stayne dismounted his steed quickly, feeling quite satisfied with himself. The knowledge that he would soon have to explain why he returned without the vorpal sword, or with Alice's head to the queen couldn't even knock him from his high. He had laid with a beautiful, important woman. No amount of bitch-slapping could hurt him. However, suspicion of his loyalty from his mistress would greatly muddy things. She was all ready unsure of this, and he wished to not push her more in that direction.

Laying in her very large bed was Iracebeth. Even in her sleep she was grinning something awful. Her dreams were filled with the sure victory tomorrow morning would bring. Frabjous day was but two mornings away, and she had complete and total confidence in her advisers ability to apprehend the damned blond and return the vorpal sword to her. These expectations put her in the most foul of moods when Ilosovic Stayne woke her from her slumber to inform her that none of this had been accomplished.

"So. Let me get this straight: You tracked her into the woods, but they were all ready in Mamoreal?"

Stayne nodded, keeping the most remorseful expression on his weathered face as he knelt before the pajamad Queen.

"It never occurred to you: "Well, mayb-"

"I scouted the palace, I assessed it's weaknesses.. my Queen." He tacked the last on quickly, it had the desired effect. Iracebeth held Ilosovics face in her tiny hands and motioned him to stand. He complied, now forced to look down at her huge head. She went to a small tea table near the balcony, claiming a seat and sighing.

"What did you discover?" she asked him finally while eyeing the contents of her tiny gold box.

"It's seemingly secure, though I did receive inside knowledge from the help." Iracebeth raised a brow at this. Anyone else who dared to move a piece from it's spot on the board without her consent would have been beheaded, but not Stayne. Her Stayne. Indeed he had happened upon some maids wandering the outer garden before his departure. A girl by the name of Agatha. She was a linens changer, and part time cook. According to her: she was very much trusted by both the court and her fellow servants. In their brief meeting with the Knave, they had divulged a major weakness in the palace structure. To which he further explained to the Red Queen. "The south garden, vines hidden behind the rose bushes have crushed the walls to almost complete rubble. It would only take one blow for the whole thing to come crashing down." She seemed unconvinced. "I had a look at it myself, and I assure you.. just one blow."

This seemed to satisfy her. Rising from her place at the table, she quickly went to Stayne and wrapped her tiny arms around his lanky form. He fought back a scowl and placed one awkward hand on her shoulder.

"Prepare the troops, Stayne. We march at noon." And with that, he was dismissed.

Ilosovic smoothed his hair with a very long exhaling of breath held in for far too long. That went better than expected, and not bad tactical planning on her part. Mirana expected a fair fight, how naive of her. They would strike early, as they prepared to go over the hump of the day. They may appear to have all the cards, but the element of surprise was key and swayed the odds into the Red. As ordered, Stayne would march himself down to the barracks and rouse the troops.

* * *

Tarrant was awakened by gently rays of light peeping through a crack in the closed drapes. As he was about to almost seizure out of bed did he realize there was a sleeping form curled into his chest. Memories of the previous night washed back into his mind as the tide of consciousness came back to him. He blushed. The form fidgeted, Alice's eyes opening slowly to meet the hatters.

"Good morning, Alice." His voice almost cracked, a hand brushing a stray hair away from her cheek as she fought back the urge to fall back asleep. Propping herself on an elbow she surveyed the room. Half of the bed was off the frame, the sheets were all but torn to shreds, and.. where were the pillows? She began to laugh.

Tarrant gave her a good tilt of his head but resumed his task of getting up. With the sudden loss of warmth, Alice pulled what little there was of the blanket around her little body and followed suit.

An easy task finding his clothes, somewhat piled together on the side of the bed with the sideways mattress. For Alice, the wardrobe provided for her was vast and she found it an impossible task to pick just one.

"I like that one.." Tarrant spoke from behind her, reaching over and pulling on the sleeve of a light blue dress. Taking it off of the hanger, she laid it over her body and modeled it in the mirror. It hung flat, and modestly ending about mid calf. With the waist tied in by a slim shiny ribbon in the back. A small coo escaped her as she slipped it on. The fabric felt luxurious against her skin. "It compliments your shape." Alice blushed.

It wasn't long after did the pair emerge from their room. Around a large table were the suspected key players including Absolum, whose eyes were locked on Alice. She felt very uneasy under his tiny gaze.

The table was set up oddly for breakfast. The plates lay barren and the cups unfilled, and the air in the room was stale with a very heavy sense of seriousness. Tarrant held out a seat for Alice before taking his own beside her. Chess arched a brow but said nothing. The group sat in silence. Alice grew more and more uncomfortable as all eyes laid on her. Specifically the tiny eyes of Absolum, who perched himself on a tiny seat of his own.

Chess warped himself by the young womans side, whispering into her eat in his regal voice, "Calm, my dear. The news is not terribly bad." Though he couldn't have been more wrong in Alice's view.

Mirana had that old scroll rolled up in front of her, she was motherly in the way she spoke to Alice.

"It appears.. there will be a new face in Underland." Her finger traced the tipped edges of the Oraculum. The blond furrowed her brow in confusion as did the Tarrant. Apparently the troupe had been briefed on the situation for they showed nothing but understanding. The March Hare's expression was almost gleeful, however, as she sipped at his empty tea cup.

"With child! Early morning, needs more sugar.." Clearly now more concerned with his unsweetened imaginary beverage, he tossed his cup aside and brought his paws out in front of him on the table. A maid was quick to clean it up.

Alice's hands went to her stomach then, shocked beyond all comprehension. Tarrant's sent shocked expressions at his comrades, all giving him the same reassuring gaze. Such an alarming wake-up call, and so soon too. He almost bubbled with mad joy. His eyes that same pink tone, glowing over his Alice. His Alice who was looking almost horrified at her lower torso. A worn and battered hand grasped her shoulder tightly, a bright face kissing her on her parted lips.

"Oh Alice! A mother? Our child!" This came about so quickly and he could scarcely contain himself. Even Chess' calming palm could not ease him blooming frame.

"It's not yours.." he purred into the Hatters ear. He drooped.

"Yes, yes I'm afraid it's not." McTwisp added, fiddling with a spoon on the setup in front of him. Aligning it again and again with his knife and fork. Tarrant continued to wilt as he retreated back into his ornate seat. His brows furrowed in confusion before realization dawned on him, and he understood the others dismay. This truth had dawned on Alice before him, and the memory of Stayne's cock in her womb brought her to a horrified state. The girl tried to stand to leave this get-together of horrors when Mirana sat her back down. Alice resisted against the delicate queens hands, but her stern expression made her sink back down into the cushion. The White Queen then went to sit opposite Alice, her eyes both comforting and filled with malice. It was a strange feeling to be the center of this sort of attention. Mirana was clearly frustrated with her.

Mallymkin, who was often to mean spirited towards the blond, placed a tiny paw on her trembling hand. Alice's lips were parted slightly, her eyes locked at her own battered hands. The small warmth of the dormouse's hand was little to bring her back from her far off place.

Tarrant's eyes grew dark with rage. He abruptly stood, causing his chair to fall backwards a good distance from him. Mally ran after the Hatter as he stormed from the room.

"I knew he would react this way." McTwisp was curled deep into his chair, put on edge by the sudden outburst. Mirana sent him a waning glance and he said no more. Chess sat in his chair with a solemn expression, fingering his plate.

"He, nor anyone outside this room has to know." he offered.

Alice nodded before getting up like a phantom and she too left the room.

Mirana sighed deeply, "I'm not in the mood for breakfast anymore." She said finally. Her plate was pushed aside and she said in silence. Others soon began to leave until only the queen and Chess were left.

"How could he do this."

"I do not think he meant this to harm you, my queen." Mirana became quite still. Her eyes almost burning into the cat. Chess' ears flattened as he became quit frightened. The storm passed quickly, and she rose from her seat like a dancer.

"We just don't ever know what goes through his head, now do we?" And with that she departed. Chess sighed, and stared deeply at a crystal glass near the edge of the table. He promptly pushed it off.


	5. Fall of the Queen

EDIT: I randomly a/n'd in the middle

A/N: Okay, not sure which site these emails are comming from but.. seriously. It's fine to leave a review on the story. I don't need your emails. You know, unless you want to show me your tits. Then by all means, email me.

Anywho, THANK YOU! You've all stroked my ego so well. Again: I'm looking for feedback on where you'd like to see this story go.

They came quickly. Silent as the overgrown foliage allowed, the Red Queens army approached the palace walls. Scouts in front, a line of troops in front of the Knave. The wall collapsed with little difficulty, just as the maid had promised. The metal cards flowing into the abandoned afternoon sun would have threatened to give them up, however the untamed bushes and shrubs provided the most convenient of covers.

The few guards who spotted the incoming troops were quickly discarded, and the enemy was soon making their way into Mamoreal. The white palace soon became a scene of ghoulish slaughter. Pieces of hacked off limbs littered the floor. Corpses showed contorted expressions of shock and pain, eyes peering into the nothingness of death.

Screams roused the Hatter from his anger induced coma. He shot up abruptly, fetching his hat and a small dagger. Emerging from his room, his eyes beheld the hellish sight. He had to find Alice.

If he had gotten to her in time, he would have found her in the throne room. Alice stood small in front of the grand display of the royal armor. She felt a sinking feeling, thinking to herself how she'll never be the champion they want her to be. Her hands cupped her flat belly, almost expecting to feel a bump. Shame. Undeniable shame swept over her and she fought back another crying fit. Her eyes, still red from the the hours before, darted quick to meet the charging red soldiers. A blunt object struck her behind the head, and she fell hard against the ground. All went black.

The twins had been lounging in a large, sunlit chamber of the palace. Sitting at the edge of a reflecting pool, Tweedledee threw some bread at one of the drifting swans while the other laid back and stared through the crystal ceiling.

McTwisp raced into the arboretum, his breath hard and his white fur stained with crimson.

"We need to get out, now! I can't find the queen.. oh dear, oh dear.." His tiny rabbit heart pumped blood through his anxiety gripped being. The twins cocked their head.

"Why?" asked Tweedledum

"Well, he said we should, so we should."

"But w-"

"The Red Queens army has infiltrated Mamoreal, this is no time for your nonsense!" Such unlike the rabbit to lose him temper, the boys fell silent and followed him out through the large doubly doors of the chamber.

Mirana had secluded herself in an out of the way location located in the easternmost corner tower. The walls were draped with satin tapestries depicting heroes and grand battles of Underlands past. The small wooden door creaked open, the tall man having to bend over to get through the small doorway.

"I knew you'd come." Mirana's voice was like a lament. She would not turn to look at him.

"Apparently your friends didn't. The fools came down easily, you really should work on your defense. Build your court with the strong instead of the frail." Stayne kept in his place, a few feet away from her. His eyes stayed on her back, looking at the space between her hair and the dip of her dress.

"They were your friends once."

"They were never my friends." The White Queen twirled on her heels, a flash of anger swept over her features before her face was wiped clean of all emotion. "I was never their friend."

"I don't believe that, and neither do you." expressionless, she placed a hand on his arm, he fought the urge to flinch away. Instead, he growled, slapping her hand away and shoving her back against the window sill. Mirana let out a hiss, and he was on her.

"I do miss this, though." He placed his lips on hers. Moving from the wall, his hands held her shoulders close to him. Only when she did not respond did he part. "What is it, Mirana?" he asked, the informality of his tone would shock even her closest advisers.

"You raped Alice." She said very flatly, her eyes blank as she refused to show anything to this man.

"I thought you, of all people, would know I was prone to infidelity." he laughed, leaning in for another kiss but she jerked away. "Oh come now!"

"You are no longer welcome in my home, in my presence, or in my bed." she motioned to the door with a fluid gesture. His face became dark as he shoved her hard against the wall. Her head hit stone and she clung to consciousness. The line had been drawn, and he stormed out, slamming the door in his wake. Mirana walked to the bed they once shared in the most secret of nights and threw it off it's frame. Hands grasped and tore at the cloth hanging on the stone walls. Pulling the candle lamp to the floor and setting the room ablaze.

Stayne stormed down the long stairway. The captain of the guard, marked by his black sash handed him the tattered scroll. 'Well now, this wasn't all for nothing', he thought. When he reached the bottom step, he made his way to a table as curiosity got the better of him. Unrolling the Oraculum, his eyes looked hungrily at the fervently changing drawings. One stood out to him the most, the one that stood fast in the wake of the now uncertain future. A sickly grin spread his marred face. He rolled up the scroll and excused the guard.

Alice came to in a dimly lit room. The girl was laid on stone tiles, a heavy chain held tight around her neck. There were no windows and it made her disoriented not knowing the time of day. The horrible aching feeling in her chest made her yearn for Tarrant. A horrifying thought emerged deep within her. Tarrant sprawled on the floor, his chest cut open with his bowels flowing out. Eyes, a gray, lifeless. Alice let out a cry and covered her face in her hands. The sound of a door opening, she looked about frantically.

"Whose there?" she demanded, but received no answer. She tried to stand but the chain kept her slightly bent over. She bent further, pulling the chain from it's bottom link as hard as she could.

"You shouldn't display yourself so provocatively, it may attract unwanted attention." To her horror, Ilosovic was propped against what must have been a door, watching her with much interest. Alice began to scream. Calling out for someone, anyone to help her.

"It would be in both our interests if you kept quiet, Alice. You don't want anyone else knowing you're here." Her eyes beamed at him with a mix of anger and confusion. He sighed, forced to explain. "Luckily for you, there was a palace maid with identical hair to yours. I bashed her face in a good deal, no one will know the difference."

A few hours before, the knave had proclaimed Alice dead, displaying the beaten in face to the queen. Iracebeth was disappointed she could not witness the brutality, but was satisfied with the death of Mirana's Champion. Stayne didn't, however, give her the Oraculum. He claimed that in her rage, Mirana had burned it with her in the tower. This caused the Red Queen much distress, but through his charm, Ilosovic convinced her that her crown was sound regardless.

Her face became a mask of shock, and some unknown power caused her to utter, "Why? Why would you save me?" He came at her, pulling her head back roughly by her hair.

"Oh Alice, I told you once before. I'm not done with you yet."

Mamoreal was rubble. The Queen was dead, and so were the majority of her court. Chess went from corpse to corpse, checking for a pulse. No life. Nothing. His large eyes beheld the item of his heart: The Hatter's Hat. His paw dusted it off lovingly.

"Well, my friend, you won't be in need of this anymore." As he went to pick up the hat, his paw was caught in the grip of a very pale hand.


	6. Bow to your King

A/N okay so like.. I uploaded chapter3 twice. What did we learn today kiddies? Never do this shit at 4am :D

Ilosovic Stayne held Alice's chin tightly, keeping her eyes on him.

"You should be grateful." He cooed, his face now dangerously close to her neck. "You and our child would be dead if not for me." This was it. He knew, and it killed her inside. His finger grazed her jawline as he left hot kisses on her neck. Alice began to cry, he savored it.

It was going to happen again. Her whole body trembled in his iron grip, waiting for his impact. It never came.

"You have quite the lovely mouth.." Stayne said to her, kissing her there tenderly. She pinched them tight, causing him to laugh. "I'm sure they are good for much more than just kissing." The implications of his words made her cringe, then cry out as those hands were on her throat, forcing her down onto her knees.

"Oh god, please no.."

Patched up, and almost like new, Tarrant sat on the edge of his make-shift hospital bed. He had been badly beaten up, but left alive. Mally laid next to him, still unconscious. McTwisp had taken shelter under the rubble of the broken gate, Chess had simply disappeared. The twins had been torn apart in their attempt to protect the Vorpal sword. As well as the March Hare, who had been stabbed in the chest by the knave. The creature high on the mans hit-list. The few left huddled together in the west wing, which is the only portion of the palace left standing. Some cried, some cursed with anger. But all wanted revenge for the death of their queen. The event had shook everyone at their core, very few even noticed the absence of Alice.

"I don't believe she is still with us, Tarrant." that cat spoke in his most sympathetic tone. The mad man sat silent, he resembled a flower that had been left out in a rainstorm, pathetic. He should have been there, helped her, saved her. "They say he decapitated her."

"He has her." Tarrant said finally. His eyes growing amber with rage. "I'll tar 'im to bits, I weel." all at once he was standing, moving quick to the place where the survivors had collected the ancient weaponry. Tarrant held a sword in his hand, feeling the weight of it. He swung it, almost expertly. "I'll pierce his heard, I weel! He'll regret eva hurtin' mah lass!"

Chess watched the display in mild amusement, and chose to let him wear himself out before trying to be rational with him. It took a bit longer than he anticipated. Hatter swung the sword around for a good long time before he had to drop it out of exhaustion.

"Quite finished?" Tarrant's eyes were in the inbetween.

"Yes. Yes I am."

"You know as well as I do we have no chance of getting her back." This put Tarrant in a rage. He began to slowly approach the cat, his eyes furious.

"What do ye suggest? Tha we just sit 'ere an do nothin'?" he fought back the urge to swing at his friend. Chess bounded backwards, trying to put some distance between them.

"I said we didn't have a chance. We don't now, we still do not know where Absolum is." Tarrant quit his march. "We'll need his wisdom before we make out next move. Don't you agree that this will be the best approach?" Tarrant calmed again, nodding and then went to his cot to check on Mallymkin.

To Alice's horror, Stayne was undoing the clasp on his belt. She adverted her eyes, only to feel the grip on her throat tighten.

"Now now Alice, there's no need to be shy." He was savoring her discomfort and shame. The tightening in his pants was relieved when they opened for his cock. Alice cringed, tears streaming down her cheeks. His fingers went to her lips, trying to open her mouth with his fingers. When she refused him, it once more became a game. Stayne clasped her nostrils closed, her hands trying frantically to remove them. When finally she had to breathe, her mouth gaped open. The hand from her throat released was there in an instant to keep it open. Leaving her cute little nose, he went for his hunter's knife and placed it on her throat.

"You bite, and I'll make you pay for it." She did not doubt this for an instant. The next moment, her mouth was being stretched to fit his member, she groaned at the pain in her cheeks. He forced himself in just until he felt her gag. Stayne moaned, placing his hand on the back of her head and grabbing fiercely at the hair there.

There was the sound of heels, and that unforgettable voice. "Stayne? Stayne...? STAYNE!" the door creaked open, Ilosovic uttered a curse as the large headed queen gasped. Her face became crooked with rage. The knave quickly dislodged himself from Alice's face, tucking himself in as he was assaulted by curses not his own.

"You vile woman.." He gripped his dagger firmly, "I have followed you like a dog. You promised me power, the crown. I betrayed the woman I loved for you."

Iracebeth was unmoved by his little speech. Thankfully for Alice, she was positioned in such a way that her back was to the Queen who wanted her dead more than anything.

"You go behind my back and fuck broads of my court!" she countered him. Stayne had just about enough of her, he approached her, his manner hostile. She withered, the glimmer of his blade hitting her in the eye. "Ilo... love. Let's just get rid of her, and then we'll talk this over, tonight."

"I will never again spend another night with you." one fatal slash. It was quick, slicing her neck open. The blood poured out, Iracebeth reaching up to touch it with her fingers, just to make sure she was bleeding. When she was reassured, she looked at her lover. His face held nothing but hate, as did his heart. The Queen fell to her knees, lifeless, and little time was spent picking up her crown. The mythic relic fitted itself to his skull, the ends curling in, the gold becoming tinted with black.

Unable to see the event, Alice was left to her imagination. The horrid noise of slashed flesh, and the sound of Iracebeth choking on her own blood made her whimper. She was suddenly forced backwards, the chain holding her down breaking as she was dragged from the room. The commotion had attracted the remaining inhabitants of the palace. Ilosovic, Alice dragging at his side, made his way to the throne room.

Curiosity called to the court, the mass of faces pooled into the chamber with perked ears.

"The Red Queen is dead!" Ilosovic proclaimed. Whispers reverberated through the sea of people. "I, am your new King."

Absolum was in his once great study. His tomes were damaged beyond repair, he sighed in dismay. Thousands of years of knowledge, lost forever. McTwisp came to his side anxiously.

"The people, they are lost. We really need a voice of reason right now."

"What should I tell them, hm? 'We need to keep positive, there is a light at the end of the tunnel'? 'If we work together, we can defeat the Red Queen!'?" the caterpillar contorted to scowl at the white rabbit. "I do not believe the usual pep-talk would be of much help this time."

McTwisp surveyed the room. It was a scholars worst nightmare.

"And the Oraculum..?"

"Gone." Absolum began his crawl to the garden. As a sudden memory hit him, he stopped to look back at the hare, "There is one consolation. I had a look at the scroll before the invasion, the Red Queen has been slain, and Alice lives."

McTwisp's eyes went wide. There was hope, and he dashed off to tell the others.


	7. Nearing filler

A/N You all are so unbelieveably sick for enjoying this.

Heavy is the shoulders of the one who bears the crown, though not as heavy as the peasants who hold up the king. The Frabjous day had came and went. It's epic battle lost forever. The Jabberwocky laying dormant beneath the earth.

Months had passed since the destruction of the White Palace, and the band of heroes had just about lost hope. The one strand keeping them from falling into despair was the knowledge that their champion still lived. Their champion, however, sat in self pity in her fine robes, satin sheets, and a gold choke-chain. Praying to what ever god ruled over this land would strike her from this miserable existence. Miles away, her Hatter trained with his sword against a wooden dummy. A very tall, wooden dummy.

News had reached the far corners of Underland of Mirana's demise, and dozens arrived everyday to pay their respects. Few stayed in hopes of the sure retribution they would bring down on the Knave's head.

Ilosovic had made good with his promises. With dethroning the queen, he took her place, reinforcing the royal guard by doubling the manpower, and proclaiming Alice as his queen.

The crowning ceremony had been a most exquisite event. All those who were still loyal under the color red were in attendance. Alice felt herself die inside, Stayne felt reborn.

In the present, Alice peered out her window. She felt cheap and unclean. There was not an inch of her body he had not roamed, kissed, or smothered. There was no need of bars, an escape from this height was suicide.. something that didn't seem so bad in comparison to her bleak future. One thing kept her from leaping: That tiny heart inside her. That bump on her stomach had grown quite large, and it pressed gently against the sill. Bastard or not, she would nurture and love the baby boy. Alice mused over names to herself. His father had no real interest in the child, only when it would remove itself, so he would be free to penetrate her fully.

She had been thankful for this small blessing, though he had found ways around it. Alice soon learned that she had a very weak gag reflex.

Ilosovic had been like a hawk to it's prey. His good eye was always watching his Alice. Even has her graceful movements became labored and clumsy in her pregnancy, she was still the most beautiful creature in the land. He'd parade her like a show dog, gold chain fitted snugly around her neck, the end twirled around his index finger. His limber body carried him much faster than a normal man, so he felt awkward slowing down his pace to suit hers, though he did without complaint.

Alice felt a pit in her stomach when she saw him looking at her. That look that told her very awful things awaited her later that night.. or that afternoon. The skin showing from under her garments was almost completely unmarked. If one were to look under her dress, however, they would see the horrors of a good night of abuse. The sight of marred flesh aroused him, the act of infliction took him there, and her screams brought him over the edge. One thing about this disgusted Alice beyond all else, she was starting to enjoy it.

As the couple sat in their day room, the new King brought forth a small vile of green sap-like liquid and presented it to Alice. Alice, who had -as always- been kneeling at his side. Her deep brown eyes stared at the concoction. Was he trying to poison her now? She looked at his face. No, he wasn't going to poison her.

"Take it, my sweet." he jolted the vile between his fingers. She took it cautiously. He egged her on with his expression, pure encouragement. He wanted her to drink it. Her hand went to the lump on her belly, and for a fleeting moment thought he might wish to push her into labor now. "Do not fear, love. It won't harm the baby." She hated how he could practically read her mind.

Her delicate fingers pried the stopper off, the smell of musk and roses filling her. It was so calming, and reminded her of an emotion she just couldn't pinpoint. Alice Stayne brought the brew to her lips, tilted back her head, and let it pour down her throat.

Swack! Crack!

Swack! Crack!

"Anotha'!"

"How long does he plan on doing this?" McTwisp asked, dragging a wooden doll behind him. Chess would shrug and watch with enthusiasm as the doll came to life, slashing at the Hatter who had now become quite the swordsman. The faux warrior was hacked to bits easily. Tarrant, eyes dark and filled with rage, demanded another. The white rabbit had laid himself on a rock, completely drained of all energy. Bayard laid close to him, he too had been slaving to bring the at-first seemingly limitless supply of wooden dummies.

The other survivors of the castle storm were afraid of the Hatter. He had slipped into a darkness that only one could bring him out of, and she was in the bed of the enemy. That one special night they had shared. The memory was so vivid in his mind, he was sure he would never let it go. It was why he kept fighting. Her love. She had proclaimed it for him, chanted it to him. Her voice became more and more dim as each day passed.

With no opponent, Tarrant threw his sword onto the rocks and stormed off into the dead woods. Twiddling his thumbs, McTwisp rolled onto his back so that the sun could warm his fur. His clothes were in such awful condition, but he did do whatever possible to look his best. Mally had awoken from her coma a solid week after their fall from grace, and like the Hatter, she too wasn't the same. The mouse, once a handful of spitfire, not flinched at the sound of cracking eggs. God forbid someone should drop a dish. It would send her into a panic attack.

"He's never going to be all right again, is he?" She said quietly, taking a seat next to Bayard.

"Lost his muchness." the hound answered, his keen eyes watching Tarrant disappear into nothingness behind brush. He raised himself on his paws slowly, making his way to the make-shift graveyard that had become the final resting place for many close friends. Bayard had also lost much of his muchness. Losing your entire family in one afternoon can do that to a husband, a father. Mallymkin, Chess, and the white rabbit watched their friend lay at the foot of shabbily marked grave, cringing as a howl reverberated through the air.

The Hatter made his way deep into a part of the forest he was not well acquainted with. He kept forward until the rubble of Mamoreal was but a speck on the horizon. His mind was cloudy with rage and fear, his senses perked to their highest degree. So it was no surprise that he head the rustling of bushes, the splashes of water. The imagined vision of a wildcat torturing a fish made him scowl. He parted the brush roughly, only to be stuck backwards by shock. On the banks of the river laid the withering body of a very pale woman. Her white hair clumped with dirt and brush. Mirana laid face down in the riverbanks, missing her left eye.


	8. Lovers fade and wash ashore

Before the red queens reign of terror, before the birth of Alice, Underland had been very different place. Mirana had succeeded her parents to the throne, her older sister bitter, but not entirely angry yet. For the world had been divided under Mirana, although she did have final word on any ruling Iracebeth made. This settled her sisters temper for the time, and she boarded herself up in a palace just for her.

Always at her side was the Knave, the knave Underland today has come to fear, with both his eyes. He was all Mirana could look at, and the same to him. Her personal guard, not that anyone wished her harm. However he was ever vigilant. Weary of every new face, and of those he personally just didn't like. He would be chastised for his calloused demeanor, and kissed tenderly on the cheek. He lived for those moments, he felt his whole body come to life at the feeling of her skin. These moments for him did not go unnoticed. Many in her court, fearing the tall man's ambitions, advised her to advert her attentions. Like a moth to light, she could not tear herself from him, and it soon became clear to both of them that the flower of love was entwining them with it's prickly vines.

It started innocently. Stealing kisses in the garden and holding hands under the dining table. But innocent just didn't cut it for the Knave. He had found Mirana in her study. An out of the way room at the top of the easternmost tower.

With a white rose in hand, he came to her. Mirana rose from her polished seat to wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him urgently. Ilosovic nipped at her lip, slipping his tongue against Mirana's as her own pushed into his mouth. Stayne moaned, pushing her gently against the decorated wall. Her gasps halted his curious hands, cupping her rump.

"Mirana?" his voice showed concern, and she waved it away with a shy smile. He took this as permission to continue. Strong arms pulled her up onto the sill, holding her firm. She shivered, feeling the cold air of night against her back. The absence of wall made her lean in close to him, his warmth comforting from the evening breeze. Hips spread her thighs apart and he ground himself into her core, eliciting a soft moan from the queen. Ankles linked around his waist, pulling herself closer into him. Stayne groaned, his face snugged tightly in her neck. The arousal between them grew until it became so painful Mirana was pulled from the window and onto the floor. Her head hit the marble, she let out a hiss it felt so good. Stayne raised an brow but continued to pamper her. Skilled hands found there way up the hem of her dress, caressing her inner thigh. Mirana blushed and looked away coyly. He brought her back, "Do not be bashful, my queen. I'd never hurt you."

She leaned in close to him, kissing his cheek and hissing into his ear in a sultry voice that didn't seem to belong to her.

"I want you to hurt me."

The two were inseparable, and gossip circulated among the palace like wildfire. Though the lovers did not care. But that eternal question, which if it brings rejection can break the strongest of men, did just that to our lovely Knave. Stayne fell into sudden rage and depression. When his destructive behavior would be tolerated no longer, he made his final stand.

He declared his love for her again and again. Though when she would now peer from her window, and the guards came to escort him away, he brought a hunters dagger up and cut out his left eye.

Mirana sat in her chamber, the light clippings of a hat maker filling the silence.

"Ye' was right ta deny him your hand, dark heart he has."

* * *

Tarrant pulled the weathered form of the former Queen from the banks of the river.

"I'm sorry, Tarrant." she apologized again and again, but he silenced her with his finger. His eyes searched the horizons for help. He gave her his own apologetic smile and lifted her into his arms. Mirana curled like a child in his grip. Her nonsensical murmuring the only sound save for the crunch of leaves and grass under the hatters shoes. Her dress was tattered and brown, her once glossy hair was greasy and matted. Tarrant could not stop staring at her gaping wound of an eye socket. It was fresh, and she was losing quite a bit of blood. The mad Hatter quickened his pace, the reality that his dear friend was alive was sinking in slowly and his purpose became more and more urgent.

The troupes gave a start to Mirana's state. Quick to fix her up in the nicest of the nursing beds, the makeshift hospital did all it could to patch her up.

"She's anemic. The blade used to cut out her eye went in a little deeper than desired, though she should be fine." The Dodo adjusted his monocle, even his own arrogance was hindered not by their current place on the chess board. Tweedledee held one of her hands, as Tweedledum placed a cool rag on her forehead.

Outside the tent, huddled in a loose circle were McTwisp, Chess, and Tarrant. All wore masks of seriousness.

"Do you think the Knave did this?" The white rabbit inquired, recalling how Stayne was missing his left eye as well. Chess rolled his shoulders, and eyes turned to Tarrant who, with a sigh, concluded.

"She did it to herself."

* * *

It feels as though someone is tearing out your organs with rough rope. That's how her mother had explained child birth to her. That's how it felt to her, only much more intense than she could ever have imagined.

Ilosovic planted himself against the door, only to be shooed off my a maid or two. To which he would curse and make some obscene gesture at.

"Not proper for a man to be in the delivery room." they would say to him.

Alice found herself surrounded by people she barely knew, yet were so very familiar. With no need to fool anyone, the higher people of the court shed their mock deformities and looked to be like normal people. The woman she recalled having an exceptionally large nose was holding her hand and dribbling cold water on her flushed face.

When finally, the father-to-be was called into the room. The small boy had the deepest brown eyes, with a tuft of black curly hair on his head. For a moment, Ilosovic felt love for the thing, yet he reconvinced himself that any child would be a threat to his throne. However, he would humor Alice's wishes to keep the child for now.

The lanky man was quickly at bedside, peering into her glazed over eyes. She was Alice, and then she wasn't. The girl kissed her husband tenderly, attentions turning to the baby in her arms. Stayne frowned and looked at one of the maids.

"When should she be ready?" such bluntness was now commonplace since he took the throne. So much in fact that the nurse didn't miss a beat.

"About a week."

Ilosovic groaned but thought if he could wait out a few months, then one more week couldn't hurt.

Alice teased the baby with her finger, "You're my little special one." she cooed to him. He could barely open his eyes. All red and fleshy. "Little Tarrant." Ilosovic Stayne turned on his heels.

"What is it's name..?" he fought to keep his tone pleasant, hoping he had misheard her. He didn't.

"Tarrant.." she cooed again, cradling the bundle against her breast. His breast. With one swift motion he had snagged the wrinkly beast from her hold. Alice cried out, begged for help but the maids could only stand in horror as the newborn was taken from it's mothers arms. Trying to stand, dizziness came over her and she fell back onto the cot.

The Knave carried the child in a way you should never carry an infant. It cried and shrieked, making his task all the more easier. Members of the court watched in horror as he went to the moat and dropped the child in.

How could he be so cruel, you ask? One must remember that there is very little room for love in the heart of the Knave. Those who are in his very small circle of trust are squished so very close together that there is scarcely room to breathe. This infant was not so lucky as to be in this circle. In fact, it had been the object of his envy. Even in her trance, Alice had given most of her attention to the creature growing inside her. When she would kiss his lips, lick his member, he could tell she was thinking of it. Naming it after the man who convinced his first pure love to denounce him was the final strike against it's short little life.

Alice sobbing on the birthing cot, stained with blood and her own tears. Courtly ladies tried to muster what little maternal feelings that possessed to comfort her. Though they knew it would do little good, she would soon be forced to forget, just like everything else. Everything would resume as usual, with just a few tweaks in detail.


	9. Of Gnats and Moats

a/n Now that I have put salt on your wounds, let me treat it with some alcohol.

They had brought her back to almost perfect health in a matter of weeks. Her cuts and bruises tended to, her eye patched, her body bathed, yet her soul was out of their healing reach. The ruins of Mamoreal had been transformed so very quickly in the past few months. In the rubble, stone and wood buildings had come to be. The masses had heard of their queens return, and they too began to fill the streets, only to have their hopes dashed. For their once great queen was now a wallowing ghost-like figure, who would not speak or eat. Her frame was slowly fading away into nothing. Her cheeks had become quite shallow and her eyes held no light. Tarrant never left her side. A hand holding her still, and the other guiding her, he kept her from becoming one of the furniture. Coaxing her to speak as he paraded her through the garden did little to help his cause, for the more he tried the more she seemed withdrawn. The fallen White Queen returned to her cottage, which was much more luxurious that the others, and curled into her sheets.

Chess gave a knock at the door. Knowing she would not answer him, he wandered in anyway, floating next to her forgotten body. With little fuzzy paws he pulled the blankets over her thin shoulders.

"I came to tell you that dinner is available, but I know you won't eat it." The cat took his seat next to the spacious bed. Then, the most unbelievable thing occurred.

"I gave him everything, and then stabbed me in the heart."

Alice sat on her cot with her face staring blank at the floor, cringing slightly when the door swung open.

"Oh, come now." Stayne cooed. "Truly life will be easier without it?" The lanky man came to her quickly, cupping her chin in his hand and giving her a small kiss.

"It was going to be mine." she said quietly. "You might as well kill me now, since you haven't seemed to have gotten' around to it."

Ilosovic sighed deeply, taking a seat next to his Alice and slinging his arms around. Cuddling her against her will, though she was too beaten to fight him off.

"Do you know why I love you at all?" Alice pulled her eyes up and looked at him inquisitively, although rage flamed close behind. He took this as a 'no', so he continued. "Do you remember at all, when you first came to Underland?" He inwardly cursed, she didn't remember coming here this time. "You attended my trial, you spoke against the Red Queen, in my favor. I was always grateful."

"Then why torture me so?"

"Would you love me otherwise?"

Alice thought hard for a moment. He was quite handsome but that only went so far. He was not funny, charming with a venomous bite, and so very cruel. No. No she wouldn't, and she doesn't now.

Her eyes said enough, and Stayne departed from his seat quickly, fleeing the room and leaving Alice to her lonesome. Though, she wasn't alone.

"Alice, how are you going to get out of this one?" the girl was startled by a very tiny voice buzzing by her ear.

"You should make a joke out of that," said the voice, "Like: I'd like to get out but the glass is too slippery!"

"That's a terrible joke!" Alice commented, only to bite her lip as the saddest little sigh brushed her other ear. "Who are you?"

"Forgetting me again? Oh you are so very forgetful." The little gnat perched itself on Alice's nose, and it took all she could muster not to flick it away.

"What do you want?" it surely wasn't the nicest thing she could have said, but it barreled out before she could catch it.

"Now, don't be impolite!" it chastised, "I'm here to help, yessir, I am."

Alice raised a brow, the gnat flying up to hover at her eye level so she was no longer cross-eyed.

"Are you so used to being caged that you do not realize the gate has been left ajar?"

The girl's heart skipped a beat. The large door to her room had, indeed, been left open. It was now or never, and Alice needed no more incentive in leaving.

Beneath the murky moat, three voices rang out in chorus.

"Wassat, there!?" one would say.

"Oh lev' it be!" would say the other.

"It looks like a baybay!"

The three moved as one around the little bundle, poking it with bony fingers.

"It's abou' dead." Said the first.

"Drown, it will!" Said the second.

"Fix it we shall!"

The White Rabbit dropped his cup. The Hatter gasped, Mallymkin falling into his soup. The Cheshire cat gave his famous smile, and Mirana took her seat at the table. She still said nothing but smiled meekly as a bowl of soup was placed in front of her. All watched her take that first dainty sip, keeping her regality even in her starvation.

"It needs more salt."

All sat staring at her, she kept her eyes on her plate.

"I-It's good to see you up and about, your Majesty." cooed Mctwisp, touching her arm comfortingly. Mirana was truly in bad shape, on the verge of becoming a walking skeleton. Though before emerging from her den she had brushed out her white hair, she had done little in any other aspect of her appearance.

As social ranking really withered just as their queen, Tarrant leaped to the head of the table where she sat.

"It is really good to see you."

The old queen gave him the first smile she had shown in quite some time, and he lit up like a wildfire.

"It's really good to see you, too." Her attention went back to the table and addressed the self appointed leaders of this small coven of rebels. "What is the status of Wonderland?"

There was a long silence, Mally stepped up to the plate.

"The Black King has control of Underland, his army has tripled, and there has been no news on Alice."

Mirana cringed at the girls name.

"So that's what he's calling himself, now? Is there any crack among his men?"

"No, they are quite loyal to him." Chess answered for Mally. Tarrant raised a brow to which the cat would grin. "I had done some reconnaissance a few days ago, they view him as one of their own. His hefty pay and benefits doesn't hurt their opinion any, either."

"Did you see Alice? Is she all right? Is she alive? Is she hu-" Tarrants eyes began to darken as a flood of horrid images of Alice in various horrible situations came to him. Luckily, Chess was quick to tap his cheek and silence him.

"I saw her briefly in the halls. She looked healthy, but was not herself." slinking back into his chair he continued, "When she spoke, it had a faint smell of Tenseque."

"The ignorant are easier to control." Mirana said solemnly. A few hushed concerns were spoken about the potion. Tenesque was one of the banned elixirs of Underland, causing permanent memory loss resulting from brainrot.

"We must bring her back! Surely he knows what the concoction is doing to her?" Bayard had sulked in, laying his head on his queens lap for a pat.

"Love makes one blind to consequences." Mirana grazed a finger over the lace patch over her eye, but quickly brought it back to patting the hound. The rest of the evening was spent in silence.


	10. I've always loved you

A/N okay so I've been gone for a while, but fear not. I have returned with delicious smut.

This really has turned into 10 chapters of me hating myself.

A/N to Plimmington: IM A SHARK! IM A SHARK! FUCK YOU, IM A SHARK!

Weary eyes watched the girl as she darted through the palace courtyard. Blinded by tears, driven by determination, Alice weakly made her way towards the gate of Salizen Grom. The large, heavy gates held tough as they loomed over her. Their shadow touching as far as the stump of the Queens' old topiary. Alice screamed out. Fists hitting the doors until they began to bleed. Ladies and gents of the new court watched with a mixture of worry and pity. For surely, they thought, such behavior would earn her another whipping. Though none would touch her. Leaving her to grieve at the foot of the heavy metal doors, eyes turned to the ground at her sobs, and to her torment they went on with their daily tasks.

Looming over the pathetic play was a defeated man. His black hair covered his one good eye as his whole body shook with a mixture of anger and sadness. What had he done? All had seem to be in the palm of his hand until this moment. Only now did the rumors of an army growing in the north cause him unrest. The wailing in the courtyard bringing his body to shake. The tension in his body building as the war between despair and rage was almost at its' end.

"Enough!" his hand came down hard on the banister, the stone beneath cracking.

All stood at attention. Their king hadn't given them much to fear as their former ruler had, but they knew that to push him in this state would earn them a fate far worse then a beheading. The sobs of the girl softened, but she was unable to silence them all together. Gripped with the most extreme emotion, the knave stalked his wife until his toes were at her knees. An unpassionate hand gripped at Alices' scalp and dragged her back towards the stairway.

The young woman screamed in terror and pain. Onlookers couldn't bear to hide their expressions of shock, though none were truly surprised. Ilosovic took his wife out of sight. An ideal place where their voiced would not be overheard. Just like he had once done, she was pinned between him and the wall, but this time she did not have that height advantage.

"Who let you out?" his voice was a hiss as he tried to tie up the lion inside him.

Alice was silent. He struck her.

"I asked you: Who let you out?"

Alice spit into his face. Ducking low under his arms and rushing for the courtyard again. Her head hit stone as the handle of a sword struck her shoulder, sending her against the wall. She felt blood trickling down her forehead. The warm sensation gave her a slight chill as she collapsed on the floor. Stayne grabbed at his head with irritation.

"Do you see what you make me do?" the lanky man came at her quick, pushing her head back as to force her to look at him. "I ask you a simple question and I get defiance."

Alice could no longer hold onto her stone charade. Tears welled in her eyes and she began to sob again. Caught and bleeding, she felt helpless. A tender hand caressed her bloody cheek.

"I'm sorry." his voice now held the tone of a lover, "I did not mean to hurt you. You must understand you just make me so crazy sometimes." The girls chest rose and fell roughly with each sob. The very sound wrenched his heart. His lips met hers in the first real tender touch from him. Her mouth opened in a sob and he robbed her of space with his tongue. Her eyes closed tight as his hands felt her thighs through her dress.

Stayne gathered the girl in his arms and carried her back to their room. Alices' hands scrambled to grab hold of walls and door frames, legs kicking in vain in any attempt to slow the precession. There was no stopping this. His mind was made up. The knave had spent his life being denied what he wanted. For once he had the power to take it, and, he believed, feel no repercussions.

The door to the shared chamber came open easily with a nudge from his shoulder. Alice, who had given up struggling, allowed to be laid out on the silk, black sheets. Ilosovic spared little time in removing her dress, taking a moment to look at his prize clad in only black lace underwear. These two were removed quickly. Alice was far from a place where she would blush from this. In fear of further pain, she spread her thighs, eyes on the tall man, pleading.

He did not undress. Going to the foot of the bed, he sunk to his knees. Hands on her thighs, he pulled her close to the edge. His hot breath caressed the inside of her thigh, a very alien feeling. Devilish gleam in his eyes, Stayne ran his tongue softly along her slit. The gesture, however foreign, caused Alice to moan softly.

"Consider this as my physical apology." he growled against her, kissing her leg passionately. His hot tongue lapped at her again, pushing past her lips until he found that nub. Alice stiffened. Her clit caught between his tongue and his teeth. Stayne began to suckle, Alice crying out as waves of pleasure flew through her. Thumb teasing her pulsing womanhood, Stayne brought Alice to a shrieking orgasm. The girl laid back on the bed, her back arched forward as she caught her breath.

Ilosovic crawled onto the bed, abandoning his shoes as he captured his love under him. Her eyes, closed on ecstasy, her arms pointed up as he held her wrists level her head. He kissed her. All the pent of anger, sadness, and frustration cleansed from his body as she began to kiss him back. His arms encircled her, holding her nude body close to him tightly. Stayne undid the clasps of his armor, pants sliding off and disposed off in a flash. Alice spread for him, flinching for rough entrance. Stayne took care in aligning himself, holding her up as she slid on him. They moaned together, the knave kissing her bloodied forehead. His fingers traced over the many scars on her lower back. Scars so cleverly placed so as to be hidden to others. A smile crept on his face as he as he buried his nose in Alices' neck, teeth sinking into the tender flesh there. The girl let out a moan, her hands tangling his messy hair. Hands on her hips, Ilosovic began to push in and out of her. Alice, conflicted with emotions, kept her head against his chest, her breath sending bumps along Staynes' hot skin.

The dark man whispered into her ear, "I've always, and will always, love you."

For one night, he would forget the growing army, his loves decaying brain. She would forget herself, her friends, and her lost child. For the first time they held each other in love.


	11. Set it Free

A/N: Sorry for the long time to update! Life has been busy and I've been busy with my art. Any who… Let's continue this train wreck.

The Bandersnatch. Holding no allegiance to anyone had set itself free upon the world, he romped the wilds of Crims. Cold stone replaced by velvet soil. The creature free of it's bonds and enveloped with it's new sense of life. Throwing itself into the thicket, his roar shook the trees root to stem. "Well why's he got to be so noisy!""An' so early in the morning!" Fat faces of red and orange groaned, strangely calm for being inches away from a good squashing. Bander snarled. Whipping around with his nose in the weeds, his sniffing pulling off a petal of the orange flower. The flower shrieked. Causing a chain reaction of cries and screams from the flower bed. Ears folded back, the Bandersnatch hrumped away to greener.. more quiet pastures. The sweet smell of familiarity danced on the tip of his sensitive nose. Pupils blazed as the synapses in his brain connected scents to memory. In a full on dash, the creature rushed to Salizan Grom. _Lights finger tips could not penetrate polluted water of the Red Queens moat. However, three sets of eyes devoured the tiny form floating ever closer to them. The three eyes belonged to the bog wychs, three sisters guilty of the same crime of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. The first, Moira, the middle child, was graced with the child's soft skin. She cooed. Her older sister, Merith, awed, and her younger sister, Haligith, wept. The other two looked to their smaller sibling. "Wha' ails you, sister?" said Merith."Why do you weep so?" continued Moira."It's not to live, can ye not see!" The shadow of a woman held the tiny corpse close. Her finger, nothing but bone and tendons, caressed the childs cheek. "Well, course he is!" shrieked the eldest. Her hands flying high above her head, sending a trail of bubbles up to Moira, who popped them one by one."Such'a fall, he had." "His cheeks still warm." Haligith held baby Tarrant up to her cheek and felt his tiny tummy on her dead flesh. She couldn't help but smile. Moira stared at her sister with a terribly blank expression, Merith busied herself with her hair. Halgith wished to speak, but the order could not be broken. She began to weep again."For the love of the crown!" Cried Merith, looking at Moira, who still seemed out of it, for some sort of help. A long silence spilled into the murky depths. "We ca' fix him." "With tha lovers plume..." Haligiths eyes, frosted over in death, seemed to hold life again. Moira went to the Eldest's side, pulling from her chest, a rib. The wych broke the bone into as many tiny pieces as she could, frowning slightly."Wha' is wrong, Moira?" Haligith asked. Anxiety apparent in her tone."How many did ye break off?""Fifty seven." The middle child said flatly."An entire life in fifty days." "Well don't doddle!""Open his chest!""Moira hand me the bones.""Don't drop a single piece.""A year a day, a child will become a man in just over month."_Alice woke, for the first time, feeling wonderful. She didn't flinch to see the face of the Knave perched on his elbow, he had been watching her sleep. "Good morning.." she greeted him. Her voice was groggy from sleep, her eyes half smiled, leaning forward to kiss her. She mirrored his actions, and some from last night. He moaned into her lips before jerking away. The door creaked open as a maid came in with a tray. On it perched a single glass vial, filled with Tenseque. The young servant left the room quickly, trying to quell her urging need to run. Alice popped out of bed. Stayne's heart felt heavy as he watched her, nude, hands holding the thing killing her. He had known the risks in the beginning. He had no cared. She was all he wanted, and he'd have her no matter the cost. But this was not his Alice. The girl whose temper broke the entire trial that changed the course of his life. The woman he lusted after for years, until she returned, in which then he hunted like the days dinner. Could she be recovered? Was it too late? He sure hoped it wasn't. He stopped himself. This feeling of remorse and regret was so foreign he wasn't sure what he was feeling at first. This had to end. "Alice.." he spoke quickly. She brought the bottle away from her lips, her expression confused. He didn't speak. Though his face told her she shouldn't move. "Alice," he began again. "If you really want to leave," his breath quickened as he forced the rest of the statement from his throat, "I won't stop you." The room became suddenly heavy. The sounds of bustling courtiers from the floor below could be heard in the thick silence. Alice went to the bed and held the mans face in her hands. He smiled. She kissed him. Then she slipped on her gown, a pair of slippers, and left the chamber. Even the guards outside could hear the Knaves heart breaking._The motley band of creatures that had answered the White Queens call of urgency made home in tiny shacks that scattered across the valley. Their numbers had tripled, giving hope to everyone. Mirana spent her time among the people, trading in her white silk for ordinary dresses. Although she was heavily guarded at all times, you'd think she was just another commoner. She didn't seem to mind. Occasionally bumping into someone or something, the Queen adjusted to her new handicapped sight.

Tarrant continued his fervent training. He didn't speak much these days, his tempter very unpredictable. So much that others avoided him whenever possible. Everyone, save for Mally. The little dormouse diligently watched over her friend. Bringing him supper when he refused to leave the training ground. Covering his motionless body with a blanket when he had passed out from exhaustion. Her heart ached to see him like this. He didn't seem human anymore. Her little chest held in her feelings for him, fearing the onslaught of opinionated others condemning their love as taboo. Oh how she wished he felt the same as she, though she knew he longed for the girl from the land above. Mally tore a flower from the ground and began to bend it cruelly. Alice brought him nothing but pain and he pined after her like a lost puppy. Wasn't it always she who stood by his side, no matter what? Now the blonde was out eloping with the Knave, regardless of mental state she was still a traitor in her eyes, leaving them to squabble in the ruin she left them in. She was the wrong Alice. Sure, she was _the Alice, but still the wrong one._

_Tarrant threw his sword down onto the ground. Falling to his knees he gasped for breath. _

"_You got to stop running yourself into the ground, Hatta." Mally leapt from her little perch and handed her friend a hot cup of tea. He accepted it, yet said nothing. Such was the habit of the Hightopp these past few months. _

_The future seemed terribly bleak, though she took solace in the company of remaining friends. _

_The Bandersnatch, nose to the earth, sniffing vigorously. The delectable smell, sweet and human, very faintly familiar. A child's crying in the distance. He quickened the pace till he came to the edge of the late Queens moat. The grotesque smell filled his tender nostrils and he reared back. It had been some time since he had smelled such a stench, and it took a moment to get used to it again. _

_A small child, curled in on himself, cried and shivered on the bank. The lumbering beast sniffed at the thing, wrinkling his nose as the smell registered as tainted. The child held another smell, the smell he had tracked from the garden. The fragrance of familiarity. _

_The beast pulled the bundle into his mouth gently, holding it there with great care as to not crush the tiny soul. Cautious eyes kept check of their surroundings before bounding back into the brush towards the rebel camp._

_A/N: sorry it's so short! Really not in the mood for writing lately. So think of this as a filler._


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